Demise
by 39addict101
Summary: It was his fault... his fault that she had died, and he didn't know if he could go on living. STRONG T rating. Very graphic descriptions and few language issues...


He hadn't realized what it was like... death.

To watch the life drain out of a person like sand running out of an hourglass. To watch the eyes glaze over with the mist of death. To watch the limbs stiffen. To feel the blood turn cold.

His hands were still stained with it. With... with _the person's_ blood. The smear of red on his pale, shaking hands reminded him bitterly of what had just happened.

Yes, Captain Man had warned him that this job was dirty, but he hadn't known how dirty. He hadn't realized that there were lives at stake... that he, Henry Hart, could be responsible for someone's death.

The woman on the floor was lifeless, because of his inaction.

Henry surveyed the room-the cold, gray walls seemed like a prison. They seemed to move in closer and closer each time he looked, fencing him in with his guilt. He'd been scared. And now someone was dead.

Henry didn't know if he'd every be able to live normally again.

He looked down at the woman's body, her head in his lap. Her lips were swollen and bleeding and a tooth lay on the floor by her ear. Her hair was tangled and matted with her own blood. One eye was black and blue, grotesquely swollen, but not swollen all the way shut. He could still see the terror in the woman's ice blue eyes.

Her hands were like birds claws, arched and clawing at her chest. One hand gripped her thigh, and the other, the gaping hole in her shoulder. She wore a white lace shirt that Henry knew at one time had been gorgeous. Her high top jeans fit her body perfectly. Converse adorned her dainty feet-feet which would never walk again. But it was her throat that scared him most. A deep cut had sliced her jugular vein, stopping all blood flow to her brain. Death had been terrible. The woman had been scared. And it was his fault.

And suddenly, instead of being sad, he was angry.

At himself.

At the woman for dying.

At the hand that had slit her throat, beaten her body, taken away her life.

At Ray for getting him involved in this mess.

Where was Ray? Why wasn't he here?

His hands were still sticky with blood, and he wiped his face, leaving a smear of crimson on his forehead. The thick blood was drying fast, and Henry hated it. It meant that the last reminder that the woman had been alive was evaporating-like a puddle under the sun's intense rays.

"My god." The woman's head was still in his lap and suddenly he was repulsed. A dead human's head was in his lap. "Oh my fucking god." He made no move to move the woman, but rocked back and forth, struggling to contain himself, keep himself from screaming.

"RAY!" The sob that wrenched out of his throat was desperate. "RAY WHERE ARE YOU?" His mouth opened and air and saliva rushed out, pooling into his bloody hand which was cupped around his mouth. When he pulled his hand away, his saliva and the woman's blood mixed, forming a weak red watery solution that churned his stomach.

The door burst open and Ray rushed in and came to an abrupt halt when he surveyed the scene.

"Ray." Henry whispered. "She's dead." He felt like a helpless child.

"Oh my god." Ray said, dropping to his knees beside the woman. "Henry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to see this side of being hero yet."

Henry said nothing, just looked at the woman's blue blue eyes which would never see the light of day again.

"C'mon." Ray said. "Let's go. There's nothing we can do anymore. I'll alert the police, and they'll come and get her."

"No." Henry said. "No, we can't leave her here alone." His hands cradled the woman's head.

"Henry." Ray's voice was firm. "We have to get you out of here... clean you up."

"No."

"_Henry._" And then Ray's hands were around his body and he was lifted up off the floor. The woman's head smashed to the ground and Henry threw up.

It got all over Ray, and the woman's face and hair, but Ray kept going and Henry kicked and screamed. But he didn't know why.

Earlier, he would have given anything to get out of the room, but now that a life had been lost, now that a life had been lost because of _him_, he loathed the thought of facing humanity again, with the thought that he had robbed the world of one precious soul.

He didn't know how he could do it.

"Ray. I can't do this." He said.

Ray stopped and set him down. "She would want you too." He said.

Henry stared at him. "She's dead because of you."

Anger flashed across Ray's face. "No, she's not dead because of you. But if you don't get up and get out of here and keep on living, you're going to be dead because of _you._"

Henry stared at the hallway through which was escorting (dragging) him. The woman had died.

If he had died, would he want to know that the person who had witnessed him go, watched his chest rise and fall that last time, become a wreck of a human being?

No. He realized. No, he would want them to keep on living, to live better, to help others...

And Ray was giving him that opportunity.

He swallowed vomit and bile and snot. "Ok." He said. "Let's go."

The healing, if it ever came, would take time, but Henry was prepared to live to the best of his ability... for her.

* * *

**This was inspired by the most recent chapter of Crystal's _Without the Mask._**

**I don't want to spoil anything for those of you who may not have read it yet. **

**But Crystal... I said it in my review, and I'm going to say it now: that was really well written. **

**Anyways... this was written really quickly... in like half an hour, and I'm not sure I can guarantee that the quality is that great lol...**

**Sorry about that. **

**Thanks for reading, and drop me a review... it really makes my day :D**

**Love you guys!**

**Addict**


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